<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Balm to my Weary Soul by orayofsunshine</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24459586">The Balm to my Weary Soul</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orayofsunshine/pseuds/orayofsunshine'>orayofsunshine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Child Death, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Minor Character Death, Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:41:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,097</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24459586</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orayofsunshine/pseuds/orayofsunshine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Following a rough day, Gilbert seeks out comfort in his wife.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>203</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Balm to my Weary Soul</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Once again, I've paired up with Jenni (@lovelyrugbee on twitter and @lovelyrugbee_art on instagram) to write a one shot in accompaniment of her art work. So fair warning: there is mature artwork at the end of this work, so don't read this with your grandma over your shoulder, lest she be scandalized.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It would be modest to say that Gilbert had a bad day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was completely exhausted both mentally and physically, weariness clinging to his bones and sorrow melted into his soul. He couldn’t help but slam the door behind him when he entered the house, needing some sort of catharsis for the hell he had just left. His muscles were tense, his jaw locked tight and the stress of the day had settled somewhere in between his shoulder blades, leaving his whole body feeling like it was on the verge of crumbling.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His day had started earlier than he had planned on. He had just been waking up for the day, content to spend the first few quiet moments of the morning cuddled up with his wife as the hazy rays of sunlight filtered into their bedroom, but the plans had been interrupted with a sharp knock on the door. Anne had just chuckled, turning over to kiss him before patting his shoulder gently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Duty calls, Doctor Blythe.” She said, her voice thick and raspy as a sleepy smile graced her face. She yawned, not even waiting for him to get out of bed before she turned her back to him, burrowing under the blankets to steal a few more minutes of sleep. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another knock, accompanied by a shout of his name, was what finally got him out of bed and he dressed with practiced efficiency before making his way to the front door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was on his horse and thundering off across the village only minutes later. He knew the house he was going to well, he had been there a few times over the last several months of Grace Prior’s pregnancy. It had been a difficult one, and she had been on bedrest for a good long while, so when her husband came banging on the door saying that something had gone wrong he wasted no time getting across town to the little cottage the young couple shared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That had been at dawn, and a lifetime later, Gilbert made the journey home at a much slower pace than the one he had made that morning as the sun began to set on the horizon, his head hung low and his heart heavy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Grace Prior had been nineteen years old, and Edward only a year older. They had been married less than a year, and now Edward was a widow. Gilbert had done everything he could, but at the end of the day he had not been able to stop the hemorrhaging and Grace had left them to join the Lord, leaving their daughter crying in her father’s arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gilbert would have nightmares about the wail of despair that came from Edward Prior when Gilbert walked out of the bedroom, shaking his head as he gave his condolences. Gilbert knew that some marriages were one of convenience and that no true love or affection was shared between husband and wife, but he also knew that Edward Prior had known his bride since he was a boy and had loved her for just as long. How tragic was it, to love someone your entire life and only have them as yours for a small window of time. There was nothing Gilbert could have done in that moment to offer any sort of comfort to the man, so he simply sat next to him and held a hand on his shoulder as he cried, his heart shattered without hope of being repaired. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was always a somber day, signing both a birth and a death certificate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gilbert, honey? Is that you?” Anne called from the kitchen, breaking him out of the somber headspace that had taken over him, and his whole body felt heavy as he trudged in the direction of his wife’s voice dropping his things carelessly to the floor as he did.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s me.” He answered, sounding just as tired as he felt as he entered the warm room. She took one look at him, his tousled hair, weary eyes and blood stained shirt and was in front of him in an instant, taking his face in her hands gently.. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell me.” She said softly, her eyes gently searching his for some sort of clue as to what had happened that day. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Grace Prior.” He supplied, biting down hard on his cheek as the lump in his throat stopped him from continuing. Anne gasped, not needing to hear another word as her hand came up to her mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh dear, I went and visited her just the other day. God rest her soul, the poor thing.” She said, eyes misty with tears. “And the baby?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Healthy as could be, a little girl.” He said, the damned lump stopping him again before he could say anything else as his voice broke. Anne frowned sadly, her shoulders drooping as she opened her arms and he didn’t hesitate to fall into them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He finally let himself release all of the emotion that had built up within him over the course of the day, grabbing handfuls of Anne’s dress as he wept into her shoulder, his body shuddering with thick, heavy sobs that he never let anyone else but his wife see. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wept for Edward, who had only gotten to love his wife for ten short months. He cried because the young man would not get to grow old with his wife, or see his daughter grow up. He was a strong young man still in his prime, he could find work easily away from the town that would surely only remind him of what he had lost. But he couldn’t do that with a baby, much less a daughter. One of the last things Gilbert did before leaving his house that evening was talk to the man about the orphanage a few hours away, making arrangements for the baby girl to be taken there. He would lose his wife and his firstborn before the week was out and the tragedy of it all was overwhelming. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He also cried because the loss of Grace brought up old grief within him. The grief of his own mother that died just as he began to live. The mother who never got to hold him, or see his face in the same way that Grace Prior would never see or hold her child. He cried for the baby girl who would most likely grow up in the orphanage, wondering about where she came from as she was subjected to the same upbringing that Anne had before the Cuthberts took her in. He prayed that someone would be kind and that fate would drop Baby Prior into the arms of a family that could love her without reservation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He cried for his own daughter that he had only held for a few short hours before she was taken away from them. Her life short but no less important than any other man’s, and even though it had been well over a year since they had lost their little one, the ache in his chest was still suffocating at the best of times. Grace Prior would be buried in the same cemetery as his little Joy, another young lady in a grave before her time was through. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Grace, his mother, Joy… The grief that assaulted him was all too overwhelming. He didn’t want to think anymore, not about the day, not about all the losses he couldn’t have stopped from happening no matter how hard he tried. He didn’t have it in him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulled away from Anne’s shoulder to look down at her angelic face, his cheeks still stained with tears as his chest heaved with the heavy emotions that weighed down on him. Anne was the strongest woman he knew, by far. Her spirit had been forged in fire and honed to be sharp as a sword yet soft as silk. Losing Joy nearly destroyed her, and yet she still held onto the hope that was so deeply rooted inside of her soul and in the most horrible moments of grief, when gilbert was supposed to be strong for her, it was Anne that was his rock. She was his stronghold, his beacon in any storm that life threw his way, she was the one steady thing he could cling to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>God, he loved his wife. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> The tension in him snapped as his eyes met hers, and in an instant his lips were on hers in a bruising kiss, his hand pressing flat against her lower back as he drew her flush against him. She gasped into his mouth, and he used that opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, kissing her roughly as he sought to clear his mind of the day. She kissed him back in kind, tangling her fingers in his hair, tugging on it roughly until he groaned against her mouth. He walked her backwards until she bumped into the kitchen table, which he promptly lifted her up onto, hands going to the buttons on her dress. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“G-Gil, let’s go upstairs.” Anne gasped as his lips followed his hands, kissing every inch of bare skin that was revealed to him as he opened up her dress. He shook his head, biting down on the soft skin of her breast as he pushed it off of her shoulders so that it pooled around her waist. The straps of chemise followed, leaving her bare to him from the waist up, and he said a quick prayer of thanksgiving that his wife hated corsets as much as he did and chose to forgo the damned garment more often than not. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” He said, chest heaving as he pulled away from her breasts only long enough to shuck his suspenders off of his shoulders, pressing her backwards onto the table and throwing her skirts back so he could pull off her drawers. “I need you here, right now. Please, Anne.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His voice was almost foreign to his ears, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care as he pulled Anne back up towards him, kissing her senseless as she began hastily unbuttoning his shirt, nodding into the kiss. With the last button pushed through the loop he pushed his trousers and drawers down roughly over his hips, not bothering to take them off all the way, only enough to free himself, stroking his length once as he pulled his wife to the edge of the table, spreading her thighs open before sinking into her in one quick thrust. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He buried his face in her shoulder, biting down on the soft skin to muffle his moan as she gasped at the sudden intrusion. Her hands scrambled for purchase on his back as he began moving, his thrusts hard and erratic, pulling little gasps from her mouth with every movement. Her mouth was right next to his ear, and it made his head spin hearing every pant, moan, and catch of breath that he drew from her lips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He kept his face buried in the crook of her neck, his arms wrapped tightly around her, tangled in her fiery locks that tumbled down her back. She must have washed her hair that evening, it was the only way it would have been down and still slightly damp when he arrived home, and he was thankful for it regardless. The sweet, subtle smell of lavender filled his nose, and he found himself relishing in being surrounded by his wife by not just touch, but smell. He needed to lose himself in her, and she was a willing participant, thighs spread as far as they could go across their kitchen table to accommodate him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Gil, Gil, Gil,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Anne panted in his ear with each sharp thrust, her voice climbing higher and higher as he drove her towards her peak, her nails raking down the skin of his back as he got her closer and closer to where he wanted them to be. He groaned at the sting, the pain only urging him on as he wrapped a hand around the smooth skin of her thigh, wrapping it around his waist as he pressed into her deeper. She cried out at the new angle he reached with the subtle shift in position, head tipping backwards as he sped up his movement, driving into her hard and fast as she lavished the long column of her neck with kisses and nips to the pale skin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was only another minute before Anne came with a cry of his name, one hand twisting into his hair, pulling sharply on the curly locks as she rocked and writhed against him, their tiny house filled with the sounds of her pleasure. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He followed shortly after, the intensity of their lovemaking and the feel of her orgasm around him tipping him over the edge as he groaned into the skin of her throat, his legs trembling as he stilled within her, digging his fingers into the creamy skin of her thighs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neither of them moved for a while, keeping themselves joined as they held each other, chests heaving and hands trembling. The knot in Gilbert’s throat had dissipated somewhere in the midst of their lovemaking, leaving him feeling lighter but also completely drained of the last remaining energy he had stored within him. He slumped against his wife, letting her carry most of his weight as he leaned into her, nuzzling the skin of her neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you, Anne. Thank you.” He whispered, peppering her throat with kisses as he made his way up to her lips, giving her a sweet peck on the lips before he stepped away, pulling his pants back up around his hips, shrugging his shirt back on from where it had gathered at his elbows, having been too preoccupied to fully undress. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anne simply smiled at him as she pulled the straps of her chemise over her shoulders, slipping off the table to let her dress fall around her feet, untying her petticoat to join it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will you fetch me my robe? I’ll fix you some supper, and we can talk about the day if you’d like.” She said sweetly, cupping his cheek gently before pressing up on her toes to kiss him quickly as he smiled down at her, nodding in confirmation. He took her discarded clothes with him to their room, dropping them in the hamper for wash day before grabbing her dressing gown and returning to the kitchen where a bowl of stew was waiting for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They didn’t talk about Grace or Edward Prior while he ate, or as they got ready for bed, he hadn’t the heart for it in the moment, but the subject lingered heavily over them as they crawled into bed after a long and trying day. In the end, it was Anne who gently broached the topic. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gilbert?” She said quietly beside him. He hummed, turning his head to face her, barely making out her features in the dark room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes dear?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at her despite the fact that she probably couldn’t see the expression. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She paused, as if uncertain of what she was about to say next, but finally she spoke. “The Prior baby… she doesn’t have to go to the orphanage.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where would she go?” Gilbert asked, knowing full well what his wife was playing at, yet he wanted her to say it aloud. She sighed heavily, and he knew that when she thought of the little girl, she was also thinking of herself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She could be ours.” She finally said, voice heavy with unshed tears. “Oh, Gilbert, you don’t know what it’s like in an asylum. It’s awful, and Grace Prior was the sweetest woman who ever lived, her baby shouldn’t grow up there because fate was unkind to her. I wish I could adopt every child that has even gone into one, but I can’t save them all, I know that. But we can do something about this baby, we can love her the way she should be. Please say yes Gilbert, I want to be a mother so badly, this could be our second chance.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re already a mother,” Gilbert said fiercely, turning to take his now weeping wife into his arms. “You are a mother, Anne Blythe. You have been since the moment you conceived Joy, and you will be until the moment you die. No one can take that away from you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But they could take our baby away from us!” She cried into his nightshirt, dampening the front with her tears. “It hurts so badly, Gilbert. You know it does, why was she taken away from us? Why have I not been able to get pregnant again? Is there something wrong with me? Did I  do something while carrying Joy that-” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop that, Anne.” Gilbert said, pressing a finger to her lips. “Don’t punish yourself for something that we had no control over.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I miss her every moment of every day.” Anne whimpered, and Gilbert nodded, his heart heavy as they thought of their little girl. They held each other tightly for a long while then, not saying anything as their grief settled over them like a thick blanket. Gilbert simply stroked her back gently, pressing kisses to the crown of her head as she sniffled and whimpered, thinking about her request. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Adopting this child won’t replace Joy. The pain will still be here, I don’t think it will ever go away.” He said to break the silence. Anne inhaled slowly, nodding after a moment into his chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, but perhaps it could bring a little hope into our lives, to help when the pain gets to be too much.” She said, lifting her head to look at him. “Please Gilbert, let us give ourselves and that little girl a second chance at happiness.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When his wife, his Anne, was looking at him the way she was, her blue eyes wide and pleading with him, he found it impossible to say no to her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll go first thing in the morning and speak to Edward.” He said with a nod, and Anne began weeping again at his acceptance of her request.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neither of them did much sleeping that night, the weight of the day and the anticipation of what the morning would bring proving to be too much for them to set their minds at rest. But they knew that everything would be changing soon, and they knew that whatever faced them, they would always have the other right by their side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! Go give Jenni some love for her INCREDIBLE art!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>